Posts tagged ‘panties’

Yeah, yeah, ya just can’t wait ta hear what I have ta say about that BRILLIANT question ya sent in back in 2003. But yer gonna hafta wait! ‘Cause I never did learn how ta do things in “a timely manner,” whatever THAT means. So today, it’s all about that fun game we play, called…

Asked and Answered in 140 Characters Er Less

Part IV: The Neoandersonozoic Division (Ah, that time of peace and prosperity when Keanu Reeves ruled the Earth. Remember that? Nah, me neither. Zing!)

…

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 asks: who would win in a fight superman or batman ?????????? please me n my sis have been fighting over tis for 2 years.
@EdWaRdSgIrL4 Superman, unless Batman had him some Kryp-to-NITE, as illustrated in The Best Macro Ever: http://tinyurl.com/kva43v

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 asks: what happens if you call 1 300 deadpoo http://bit.ly/tTpXL
@EdWaRdSgIrL4 You really do get a t-shirt! Or Taskmaster comes ta yer house and beats ya up. One or th’ other. Who can say which it’ll be?

@Lachdanan_ asks: Did you go and see the movie District 9? If so, what did you think of it?
@Lachdanan_ Nah, haven’t gotten ta see that one yet. Didja like it? Tell me if it’s worth a watch!

@gil_garcia asks: why do you have such lame people asking stupid questions?
@gil_garcia Cause I’m like a movie star – they love me SO MUCH, when they get aroun’ me they’re all flustered an’ can’t think’a complex stuff

@MadiRuss asks: Just curious, why do you point your toes so much when you fight? Is it a ballet thing or are you just naturally graceful?
@MadiRuss Ninjas do that when they ninj so they can poke dudes in the eye while fightin’ – An I’m just the ninjaest ninja that ever ninjed

@thnksfrthmmrz asks: if i actually get to ask you questions…. WHO THE FUCK IS RED HULK?
@thnksfrthmmrz All I can say is we’re only a coupla issues inta th’ story an’ I can tell already that it’s all gonna end in tears. TEARS.

@xXBlackVirusXx asks: why do things go missing in the laundry room & was it you that stole my new panties?I just gotem 2
@xXBlackVirusXx I blame the Eater of Socks. As does Terry Pratchett. He’s one smart dude. And…well…maybe…Hey, I needed a clean pair!

@bairdduvessa asks: u are probably sick of this..but what does this merger with Disney mean for you?
@bairdduvessa It means I’m stockpilin’ some weapons fer the inevitable moment when I’ll haveta go an’ TAKE OUT TH’ MOUSE. Stupid Disney.

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 asks: disney bought marvel …. ????? what does that mean for you ???? im so confused
@EdWaRdSgIrL4 Never fear, young padawan, all will become clear shortly. When the Mouse’s chalk outline appears in my next storyline.

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 Either that er a team-up: The Merc w/a Mouth & Mad-Eye Mickey, th’ Maddest Mouse in the Midwest: Together, they fight crime!

@death_by_avid asks: which Disney character would make the best sidekick for you?
@death_by_avid Hey, that’s a good one! Uh – Scrooge McDuck – he’s a tough ol’ nut AND he’s a gazillionaire. I c’d totally use that.

@Xaphnea asks: Hey Wade, you sad the mannequin came to her untimely end so soon?
@Xaphnea It was fun while it lasted. An’ the blind broad wasn’t so bad either – but she was srsly lacking as an homage to my good buddy Al

@gil_garcia asks: I guess with the recent Disney purchase, is there a possibility I could see you kill Hannah Montana in the movies???
@gil_garcia HEY SIGN ME UP FER THAT CROSSOVER WHUT WHUT. Hellz yeah. Also: The Cheetah Girls.

@Kil1ertofu asks: Boxers, Briefs, or the best game of strip poker ever?
@Kil1ertofu ‘s that even a choice? Then again, who’s playin’ poker with me? If it’s the Blob, I’ll pass!

@pandora114 asks: thinking bout getting a tat done of U, where n what should U be sayin? (I’m a chick)
@pandora114 Dunno where, but I vote fer one’a my favorites: “My common sense is tingling.” A la this pic: http://tinyurl.com/ygq429e

@freaks173 asks: What are you going as for Halloween this year?
@freaks173 Seein’ as Tasky already dressed up as me, I figured I’d return th’ favor. Then I’ll hit on all the gals fer him. Score!

@ToughTom asks: Why are you my all time hero?
@ToughTom ‘Cause of that thing I can do with two socks and a falafel. And a spatula.

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 asks: who is Blind Al??
@EdWaRdSgIrL4 Th’ lore a’the common folk says she was my prisoner/den mother/whosiwhatsit, but I say mostly she was a pain in my ass!

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 I miss that crazy ol’ woman. Maybe I’ll sneak inta her room while she’s sleepin’ an visit. Hey, it works fer vampires!

@RelayHuntersCrk asks: what do you think we can do, as non-superheroes, to help obliterate cancer?
@RelayHuntersCrk ‘S a tough one. Well fer one thing, I guess we c’n give more money ta the scientist-dudes. I’ll donate my last haul!

@RelayHuntersCrk An’ then maybe we c’n throw all the tobacco companies inta the ocean, yeah? Hm.

@EdWaRdSgIrL4 asks: should i put you on my superheros list or should i make a anihero list???
@EdWaRdSgIrL4 Mercenaries got their own list, babe! It’d be too confusin’ allus having ta switch us from the “heroes” ta “villains” list.

@pandora114 asks: Question, if you were to get it on with Lady Deadpool, would that be incest or masturbation? or what?
@pandora114 Ya know what it’d be? A WHOLE LOTTA FUN, that’s what. But I think @robertliefeld may already have called dibs. SADFACE. D:

@bairdduvessa asks: can u give me some money so i can start my life over AND get an Outlaw tattoo?
@bairdduvessa Abso-freakin-lutely, dude! Send me your bank account info an’ passwords an’ all, an’ I will deposit some cash toot sweet!

Holy horny toads in a hot bayou, my fearsome followers! I am just about the slowest typist this side of Louisiana, ain’t I? Ah well, quit’cher complainin’, ’cause I just got paid fer a sneaky little recon job me an’ Outlaw pulled, so now I can take a few minutes to sit back, relax with some of Bob’s Icy Death Lemonade (Now! With Arctic Poison Ice!*), and answer some a’ your ingenious questions. Please, please – try to contain your excitement.

OK, then…lookin’ through the pile a’junk Sandi handed me on my way in…Ah! Here’s one that’s been festerin’ in the mail heap for awhile:

1. First things first: anyone else here see the irony a’ the Doc askin’ me what’s up? Yeah, I thought so. Now then, Doc, there’s a very simple explanation here, and it goes somethin’ like this: see, whenever Marvel prints an issue of my comic, the editors look at it, all shiny and pretty and new, and decide that you feebs don’t deserve such a wondrous piece of artistry. They decide they want t’keep ’em all! (You know the mooks who work in comics are the biggest geeky collectors of them all, after all.) So they go an’ sabotage the online subscription sign-up and order list, and then they lock all the issues up in The Special Vault. An’ then the accountants start crunchin’ numbers (as they do) and go on an’ on about pesky little things like “cost of supplies” and “overhead” and “profits” and what-all, and the editors cry and pout, an’ then the accountants haveta go down the hall and get Fred.

Fred’s a little slow, but he’s a big dude that don’t ask fer much pay, so they keep ‘im around for this stuff. So Fred goes and pries the new issues away from the editors, and beats up whichever one of them sabotaged the order list this week, an’ everything gets straightened out. But see, Doc, this whole song an’ dance happens every single issue, an’ it kinda slows things down. So that’s why it’s so hard to receive issues of my awesome comic on time. It’s because they’re SO AWESOME.

See? Wasn’t that a simple explanation?

2. You know, I’d say it’s gotta be the hair. I mean, we all know I’m one in a million and three, here, but Outlaw’s got this thing about pretty blonde hair, an’ I ain’t bin sportin’ that for a long while (X-Force #56, anyone?). So I prob’ly wouldn’t be much use on a trip t’the mall an’ the hair salon, plus last time we went I may have accidentally, y’know, inadvertently caused some murder an’ mayhem, and Outlaw hates it when things get between her and her sale items. Anyway, her la-di-da relationship with WB doesn’t really phase me. Whatever barbeques her ribs is cool with me, ’cause I got my eye on a different gal. But I do wish Thor wasn’t so goshdarned whiny.

1. Well, I know th’ mooks who run this LiveJournal carnival tend to frown on explicit written pornography, so in th’ interest of not rainin’ on their funnel cake stand, I’ll skip over how much seein’ Red spins my carousel, an’ just say that I’ll always have a little soft spot in my heart for th’ stunning songstress – prob’ly the spot right next to my love of sharp shiny things.

2. Man, I was embarrassed enough before anyone went around jumpin’ on couches and grinnin’ like a monkey on speed all the time. Lemme just say, no matter how much I may have looked like the dude, I never got so excited talking to people about my belief in aliens an’ explodin’ volcanoes or whatever that I looked like I was gonna spit a lung up at them. AND that I would rather be cursed with immortality than that face. Whew, what a narrow escape THAT was!

3. Ahh, who’s to say? Sandi got me an expense account there. She said it took some doin’ – apparently no one else in th’ known world had ever asked fer one. But then, I always knew I was special.

4. Are they free? Free for me? THEN HELL YES.

Anytime, baby. Now ninja on outta here and bring me a taco!

OK, one more before I go see if Agent Orca has left a single snack in the kitchen t’day.

…Well, I’m glad to hear that you still would want to team up with Nate after all that. Seriously, you guys are just awesome together. *fangirls*

But anyway, questions!

1. If you could get some kinda super tricked-out crimefi-I mean merc-work vehicle, what would it be? And what sort of features would it have?

2. What do you superhero/villian types normally wear under your costumes? Do any of them, you know, go commando? (Or just wear a little red thong like Tony Stark?)

3. Could you possibly find some way to jump into another comic book universe? If so, can you punch this guy in the face for me?-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrian_Veidt
Because he really needs to be punched in the face.

I’ll pay you in cookies. Or brownies, or cupcakes. Some type of baked goods. Please?

Ooh, numbered questions from the Monster of Spam! Shouldn’t they all be asking me if I want to expand my mojo with the little blue pills an’ things? Huh. Guess not. Ok, here we go!

1. You know those giant hamster balls? The ones where you can go rollin’ down hills an’ over th’ water an’ stuff? Well, I’m not sayin’ that would be my transportation a’choice, but it’s definitely gotta be a feature. Collapse one a’those down and pack it in the side compartment for the easy jobs, ya know? Because, I mean, what else strikes fear inta th’heart of whatever mafia goons you’re about ta knock off like a Giant Hamster Ball A’ Doom barrelin’ straight for them? Gets ’em every time, I tell ya, right about when I roll on over their heads. Other features, other features…OOH. Well, a smoothie machine, fer sure. Sometimes a brain freeze is just what my bubblin’ brain-pan needs. And a’course, some of us are easily distracted, so I guess I’d have ta heist one of Mr. Iron Man Stark’s little smart robots to rig up somewhere so it could hand me my smoothies and take the ladies’ phone numbers when I slow down at red lights and all that. An’ naturally I’d have some, y’know, homing missiles, spike-producin’ tires, crazy spy GPS tech, an’ pretty much everything else you’ve ever seen in a Bond movie.

But where would all this custom gear fit, you ask me? No contest! In a tricked out, souped up Ducati Superbike 1198 S, a’course. Don’t think I could fit it all in there? ‘Chya! A’course I could. Look at how much Tony fits in one little suit a’armor and tell me I couldn’t do even better with a Ducati! Not to mention their gear comes in my colors.

2. OK, now see, I don’t go around spyin’ on the other supercool peeps in their skivvies unless they happen t’be, y’know, women. So I can’t say one way or th’ other what Tony wears under that suit. An’ there are some things us superheroes (like me!) are totally sworn to secrecy on, like how Emma Frost manages to keep her top from falling down all the time (but oooh, wouldn’t you fanboys love to know how I found that one out). I will say, though, that those of us who wear spandex have a much easier time of it if we forget our briefs than kids like Tony. OUCH! An’ then you got crazy bastards like The Thing, who pretty much wanders around in his boxers all day without anyone sayin’ a word, even if he does look like magnified sandpaper. So pretty much what I’m sayin’ is it depends a whole lot on who we’re talkin’ about. Me, I get by with just about anything I can find that’s sorta clean at the moment, which usually means something with little Deadpool symbols on it, although I’m not above wearin’ the green panties if Bob hasn’t finished the laundry yet. I look pretty darned good in green. Yellow, too!

3. OK, I tell you what – if I ever get out of the crossover story I’m stuck in right now, I’ll take a little detour downtown to Veidt’s place and knock his lights out for ya. And you know? I’ll even do it for free. ‘Cause MAN, what a tool that dude is.

I won’t turn down baked goods if they’re offered, though.

P.S. Yes, to answer your other question, Nate *is* part pirate, thanks to his pirate captain granddaddy’s shenanigans (although I’m not sure his granddaddy was the sharpest splinter in the tinderbox. Who builds a plane out of wood these days?). In fact, one of his middle names I always forget t’list is “Yaarrrrrr.” I think it’s somewhere between “Christopher” and “Dayspring,” but who can remember? Anywho, I got him an eyepatch for his glowy-eye one Christmas, ’cause it was totally keeping me awake at night, but he refused to wear it unless I saluted him and called him “Yaarrrrrr.” He’s very respectful of his heritage. What a dork.

An’ that’s it for today, my friendly amigos. Bob’s cookin’ up some South a’the Border specialties fer dinner, and I don’t want to be late. You know how I love me some Mexican food.

So until next time, keep ’em revved and ready! (And I’m referring here to my elite fleet of Ducati motorcycles. You know, the ones I assume you all are buying for me as we speak. You haven’t started signin’ the papers yet? WELL GET TO IT. I accept both red and black paint jobs. Thank you.)

* Sandi would like to remind us all that Artic Poison Ice, while not harmful to regenerative wonders like me, is actually a serious matter that we should be trying to stop, even if it does leave Bob with less fun ingredients to experiment with. So recycle and save energy and and help stop global warming and all that jazz! Sandi thanks you.

Jumpin’ Jack on a beanstalk, my magnificent little matzos! It’s been so busy around here I haven’t had a minute of me-time, but I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ to tell you the news, and I just can’t wait any more!

So remember how we got hired by Iron Man a few days ago to go “liberate” the forfeit Captain America lost to Iron Man at poker? Well I thought fer sure it was gonna be his shield – I mean, everyone loves that thing, right? Who wouldn’t want to have Cap’s shield? But I was so far wrong on this one. It’s not the shield we gotta get – it’s the teeny wings! THE TEENY WINGS. You know what I’m talking about, right? The teeny, useless little wings Cap sports on his mask like weird little antennae? Oh, man, when I read the fax from Iron Man, I couldn’t get off the floor for about an hour, I was laughing so hard. Sandi was havin’ a hard time, too. We can’t even look at each other right now, ‘cause every time we do, one of us says, ‘Teeny wings!’ and off we go again.

Anyway, that Iron Man is one twisted *&%@&!^#4$#%! You gotta admire a man who would go after Cap’s teeny wings. I wonder what Iron Man’s forfeit woulda been.

Since this it CAPTAIN AMERICA we’re talkin’ about, and the teeny wings aren’t as easy to nab as the shield (I mean, he throws that shield around all the time, but I’ve never seen him throw the teeny wings), we decided to call in Tasky, too. Well, that and Sandi’s a little worried ‘cause he tried to drink the oven cleaner yesterday after he ran out of booze. Little skelly-dude is a mess. So she thinks maybe this’ll get ‘im back to normal. Well, normal for him, anyway. Even if it works I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell the difference.

Speakin’ a’folks at the Agency, Agent X has finally gotten his Bloat down to “normal” levels. We put ‘im on a No Twinkie diet yesterday to try to help him even more, but so far, even with the electrodes we hooked up as a deterrent to Snacking, the score’s at Twinkies, 82; Agent X, 0. I dunno if we’re ever gonna get him the way he used to be again. Which is good for me, ‘cause then I can keep gettin’ all the work!

…Oh, and I almost forgot. Weasel said don’t tell, but he’s got a little crush on one a’you readers. Chyah, like he really thought I wouldn’t tell.

Weasel also had a kinda fun idea, though. He thought maybe, y’know, now and then, one of the other Agency mooks should answer some questions. Apparently all the famous people have “guest bloggers,” he says. I think it’s just ‘cause he’s getting bored with his Wii and wants to interact with possibly hot babes over the wires, but hey, I’m willing to give it a try. Sandi showed me how to do this nifty “poll” thing, so I’m gonna try it out:

And now, while Orca X is polishin’ up the guns and polishin’ off the puddin’, I’ll answer some questions:

1. Were you born snarky, or did you have to work at it? Or, to put in another way…have you always been an asshole, darling?
2. Have you ever worn women’s underwear, and if so, what kind and do you have any pictures?
3. What is your favourite vivverid?
4. Should my girlfriend pierce her tongue?
5. In the interest of irritating you and repeating questions, how’s that cock taste? And did you know someone made two Cable/Deadpool fanmixes? Heh.

Yours truly,
SCIENCE!!

P.S. I’m German, incidentally. Hopefully that’ll make you less inclined to shank me.

Oh, and happy birthday and suchlike. Actually, another question’s occurred to me: what flavour of cake do you enjoy? An excellent tool in personality assessment, is that.

Oh, numbered questions, my heart sings for you!! Whee!

1. Well, kid, I gotta tell ya, I came outta my mother’s belly crackin’ wise, and I ain’t never stopped yet. Except when the writers shove me in those lame alternate worlds where I’m all boring and look even scarier than I do here. Man, I HATE THAT. But really, I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t me, so clearly I musta been me from Day One. But I don’t like t’think of myself as an asshole – if I had to pick a body part, I’d say I’m more of a dick. A private dick. A–oh, never mind.

2. How come on Marvel Girl it’s a uniform, and on me, it’s underwear, that’s what I wanna know? I mean, hey, if I came out wearing the one-eyed angst-cushion’s stupid visor people’d just say, “Oh, look at ‘Pool. He borrowed Cyclops’ visor ‘cause he wanted to look like a tool, too!” But when it’s yellow panties, everybody gets all excited. I just don’t get it! As for pictures, well I tried to pose (those feebs got a whole wall with shots of themselves in uniform, and I figured they’d want me too, since I’m the coolest mutant of them all) but everyone seemed to be outta film. Schmoes.

3. Is that like a Pokemon? Charmander’s THE BOMB.

4. If you’re inta that freaky $&^!, then go for it! I tried to get a piercing once, but the damn hole kept healing up! Mutant DNA, I tell ya. It ruins all your fun.

5. Well like I said, the chicken stew was fantastic, but we haven’t killed the cock yet. I think Bob’s kinda starting to think of it as his little pet. I can’t wait to see what happens when I wring its neck. And…uh…fanmixes? Is that like a mixer that can fan you at the same time? Hey, if it means my mask is on more merch, I’m cool with it.

As for the cake question, well I’m pretty partial to Bob’s non-lethal lemon cake, but I gotta say I like me some red velvet cake, too. Too bad Bob refuses to make it with black icing.

Whew! That was a lot of answerin’, right there. My typin’ finger might be just about worn out now. No, no, wait…ah, healing factor. Feelin’ good, feelin’ ready. On to the next letter:

if you could be in any classic black-and-white movie, what would it be? Doesn’t even have to be in English.

Oh, I love the easy ones: Citizen Kane, baby. That CFK was one crazy dude, and I dig that. ‘Course, if I was in the movie, it wouldn’ta been called Citizen Kane anymore, it woulda been something like, Deadpool Kicks Ass, so maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t in it – I wouldn’t want to upstage some poor actor who can’t even afford color film.

OK, one more, and then we gotta go do some more Strategic Planning around here, ‘cause Iron Man said we’re supposed to try not to hurt Cap too much when we go for the TEENY WINGS.

1) What the hell is that about? Nate was the one who used the word divorce, and was practically writing you love notes, am I right?

2) How can I make my father stop stalking me? Do you have any advice?

3) How hot are you going to be kicking Skrull butt on a scale of 1-15? 27? 29? 150?

Ah, the numbered questions, like candy to my soul!

Fabian can call it whatever he wants, but I never starred in no romance novel. But to answer your questions:

1) Well, you know how it is, some asshats are still stuck in Big Guns ‘90s, and can’t stand the idea that Cable is really a woobie schmoop. But, y’know, if they can’t wrap their heads around that one, I don’t know why they even bought the issues. I mean, here’s a guy who practically sheds a tear of w00b if he can’t save a little girl from a toothache. He’s a schmoop with a capital S. As for how the big glowy-eyed Schmoop feels about me, well, I can’t help it if everyone loves the ‘Pool-man. And I do mean everyone. I tried to let ‘im down easy over the fact that I just ain’t interested – y’know, shooting at him, trying to arrest his a$$, blowing him up with a grenade – but he just won’t give it up. Whaddaya gonna do?

2) As my good friend Bob would say, “TAKE. HIM. OUT. Hail HYDRA!” I mean, sure, he’s your dad, but really, what’s that mean? He’s got some of the same DNA as you? Well I got some of the same DNA as Cable, and like I said, I got no problem shooting him inna face. Just DO IT.*

…Well, unless by “stalking me” you mean he asks you where you been all day when you been out on the corner with the girls smokin’ and drinkin’ and flashin’ some leg or whatever. In that case, I think he might be justified. Even if you’re fifty. That’s just something dads are allowed to do. Forever.

3) Like the Black Box once said, I’m off the CHARTS, baby. Those Skrulls won’t know what hit ‘em. Unless Danny-boy wusses out on the writing, but you can’t blame me if that happens.

Oh, looks like the big meetin’ is about to start, so I gotta go. Wish me luck on the mission, and until next time, keep ‘em jacked and packed!

* Our lawyer (Outlaw, via mail-away law school degree) has informed me that encouraging non-super-powered beings to violence and murder is Probably Not a Good Idea, so I have to put in this little disclaimer that says, “Don’t really shoot him.” But, y’know, I don’t mean it.

Hey there, my charismatic chiquitas! How’s it hangin’? Just got time for a quick couple of questions while I wait for the dryer to buzz.

I’m typin’ from home this time, ‘cause we finally got enough money from the eyeball job that Sandi said I could go home for the night. I think it might be the first night in twelve days I’ve actually gotten back to that comfortable ass-groove in the couch. Man, I missed my couch. Hello, couch!

Huh. Well, my petite cherry blossom, not entirely sure what you mean there. I mean, I’ve always been chilla than the next dude, so it’s not really like I had a life pre-chilla. But maybe you mean in those days before I became the amazing, astonishing merc-for-hire that I am today? I guess you could say back then my life was…not nearly as much fun as it is now, that’s for sure! But maybe that’s not what you meant, either. I guess maybe it’s time to try out my Google-fu!

Hmmm…lessee…Google says:

Chilla-nashini (severe trial: also spelled Chelaa-nashini) is the spiritual practice, known mostly in Indian and Persian folklore, of remaining seated in a circle without food, water, or sleep for forty days and nights.

Haha. Well that can’t be what you meant. I mean, what kind of a fool would sit around in a circle and do nothing for that long? I hope you’re at least allowed to talk sometimes. Man, that’d be so boring if you couldn’t even talk.

Um…

Oh, here’s something. I see “chilla” is a nickname for “chinchilla.” Now, how in the hell did you know that Sandi just got one of those things? Are you stalking the Agency?? (O_<) You’d better watch out, or you’re gonna start freakin’ me out, here. Anyway, if THAT’S what you meant, the answer is: much less cute. I mean, I’m not much of a sucker for little furry things, but damn that puffball is irrisistable. The very first time she made me pet it it tried to lick my finger, and I have to admit, now I bring it raisins and call it my little Cottonball. And I haven’t even tried to stab it yet. Just don’t tell any of the bad guys this, ‘kay? It’s not good for my image.

P.S. I don’t know why she named it Rogue. Chindis the Killa Chinchilla would have been a much better name. Especially with those little red eyes the furball has. But Sandi never listens to me. Also she’s got a major lesbian crush on that X-chick.

Who’s your favorite Buffy character? And I mean the character, not your
favorite set of tits.

Cheers!

Ame

Ooh, this one’s easy-peasy-puddin-and-pie. That’d be Willow, baby. She’s clearly better than all the other feebs on the show. I mean:

a) she’s got red hair, which is spicy-hot-hot-hot;

b) she dated a werewolf for awhile, so I figure even a guy who looks like me might have a shot; and

c) she gets it on with chicks, and she’s kinda kinky, so if I asked real nice, she might let me watch.

In a word: ZING!

P.S. How dare you imply I’m so shallow that I’m just admirin’ the melons? I am so very offended!

P.P.S. And speaking of melons, helloooo, witch! That would be reason (d) why Willow’s the best!

OK, one more for the night:

Dear Deadpool;

I’m a big, big fan, and I love your style, but I have to ask: are you gay? My friend gestalt1 says you’re “totally gay for Cable. TOTALLY!” and I want to know if it’s true. I mean, Cable’s got a chiseled profile and all, and I dig the glowing eye, but really, man, that’s just LAME. And now he’s traipsing around with a baby and stuff, and that’s kinda wussy, and I just had to ask. Say it ain’t so, man!

Derek Boterry
Monte Sereno, CA

P.S. Is this you? I know you’ve dressed up as a girl before. I thought maybe it was you in drag again.

Derek; you know, I’ve never been to Monte Sereno, but I’ve heard it’s a nice place to visit for a day. Maybe I’ll come out your way sometime. I bet you’d LOVE to see my katanas all up close and personal. They’re really sharp.

But to answer your question: I thought we covered this already! Damn. I don’t know where these rumors even come from! Really. I mean, you live with a mutant Jesus that everyone is in love with on a remote island for a few months or so and all of a sudden people think you’re the new Odd Couple or something. Like I could help that we always went everywhere together and stuff. That was the fault of science, man, not my choice. Well, science and Cable swallowing me, but–wait–that didn’t–you know, the short answer is NO. In all caps, dude. I dig the chicks. And my fantasies in no way involve WD-40. I don’t know who started that one, but just GET IT OFF THE INTERNET, FEEBS. I am a 100%. Straight. MAN.

Ooh, I gotta go now. The dryer just buzzed and my new green panties are dry! See ya!

Whooooo-boy, my pretty pashminas, it’s been a ROUGH morning over here at the ol’ Agency, let me tell you what. First, we ran out of Twinkies, and Agent Orca came about *thisclose* to stabbing Outlaw in the face because she stole the last one after distracting him with, well, let’s just say that rack comes in handy for more than hangin’ a cute shirt on. Of course, I missed the action ’cause I was out on the job, knee-deep in eyeballs and entrails, but Sandi made an emergency run and came back with Hostess products and Dunkin’ Donuts for all. THEN Tasky stopped by, all drunk from a three-day bender, and tried to kidnap Sandi and take her away to his love-nest or something. Orca says he just ended up falling on his face and slurring, “Wilssshnssh a prick ‘n’ you need f’get him.” I don’t know what he was on about, though – it’s not like Sandi’s not free to find another job if she wants. I can’t help that I’m such a fantastic boss.

I wasn’t really concerned with all that, though, ‘cause I was still on the trail of the Eyeball Gouger – found him holed up in a warehouse on 52nd, and THEN things really got fun. The revolver, the candlestick, the lead pipe, and the knife were all in play, but darned if I could find the little plastic rope, so in the end we stopped with the CLUE and I just beat him over the head, repeatedly. It was sweet.

Right when I got back to the office, though, Outlaw’s new boyfriend came crashing in and they started fighting about whose hair was nicer. (I don’t think she told him it’s a wig yet.) He hit her with a hammer and flew her away, and really, I’d go after them but it’s not like I can fly. Anyway, Outlaw’s a big girl. She can handle him fine, from the looks of things.

So instead, I’m gonna shove my uniform in the wash (you wouldn’t guess it, but eyeball juice stains) take a nice, deep breath, and answer some questions. (And I have to say, I figured out why so many people are addicted to this ‘blog’ thing and stuff – you get to talk and talk and no one can interrupt you. I love it!)

1) When I’m hanging upside down outside your window and watching you sleep? But I don’t do that these days, ‘cause now it’s not considered “romantic,” it’s considered “stalking.”

2) I’m a master of stealth and sneakiness, so when I’ve got you in my sniper sights, I’d be seein’ you but there ain’t no way you’d be seein’ me! Not that I’d ever try to kill you, though, ‘cause then all your lawyer friends’d slap me with a lawsuit before I could say, ‘Great Gatsby in a knapsack!’

3) Well if you close your eyes while I’m starin’ at you, but that one seems obvious.

4) There was this one time when Cable duct-taped me from head to toe, and he could totally see me but I couldn’t see him at all. I stabbed him in the forearm for that one. Then he duct-taped me to a truck windshield and painted me orange and black like Garfield. That bastard.

5) If I hid under the pile of undies in your laundry basket, you probable wouldn’t see me, even if I was starin’ right up your skirt at you. Not that I’d do that. That’s the kind of thing Agent X would do. And then he’d steal your panties. Pervert.

6) I could go on for hours, here, but I think you get the idea.

P.S. That grappling hook you found outside your window yesterday? Totally not mine.

P.P.S. How do I know you’ve got lawyer friends? Well I am stealthy and sneaky, and possibly also a master of disguise. Yet another reason you’d never see me if I didn’t want you to.

P.P.P.S. These green panties are adorable. Can I keep them? All my boxers are dirty right now.

Well, Judsons, this may come as a shock to you, but the reason your socks never match is that you’re colorblind. In one eye. You know, I knew this guy who was colorblind once. When he was a kid, he had this white shirt he wore all the time. It was his very favorite shirt in the whole world. He wore it to school, and he wore it to play, and he wore it to bed. And then one day, his friend asked him, “Sam, why do you always wear that bright pink shirt?”

He also painted part of his green car brown when he was in high school. When his dad asked him why he’d bought the brown paint, he said, “Well dad, I have a brown car. Why wouldn’t I buy brown paint?” Poor schmuck. I used to love asking him what color things were and then laughing at him. Until he stabbed me in the leg that one time. Then we were no longer buddies.

But back to your problem. See, because you’re colorblind in one eye and your nose is really really big, your peripheral vision just plain sucks, and the socks you wear on your left foot look different from the ones you wear on your right foot. Sorry, dude. That’s just the way it works. Your best bet for solving this is to never wear socks.

As for God and food, did I ever tell you what a fantastic baker that skinny li’l gal is? I mean, I’ve never met her, personally, but one time while I was hangin’ with Loki (that tricksy dude with the great hat collection) she sent him a strawberry shortcake ‘cause he mowed her lawn for free or something, and he gave me a piece, and man, was that stuff good. I mean, it almost tasted like there were no preservatives or artificial flavors in it at all. I almost fell for God right then and there on the basis of cake alone, but it’s always bad news dating two immortal anthropomorphic gals, and I knew Death’d be jealous if I started stalking God, even if it was just cake-love. And then there’s that whole universal ‘kick-me’ sign God seems to have decided to slap on my back. I kinda can’t get past that, even for cake.

Anyway, the way I hear it, God never eats Mexican food. It gives her really bad gas.

…

Oh, time to throw my suit in the dryer. So, until next time, keep ‘em sharp and shiny!